strangers in placing
them elsewhere,
the heart’s
renting rare
spilling in
option wrappers
are always clean
and beautiful,
is to not be where pain
stops itchy
face already agrees
chlorinated sinus is hard
to the litter core
the pearl is tax,
the pearl is tax,
tinkling there in
the brightening celeste
that sleep of reason
in calculation it remains
from on high
let light in
so the truly happy,
clean faces
close to weaning
us to its reasons
raise clamour
to sober digits
glass goes one way,
whose nominal pain
gets put on,
that is not yours
to be consumed
to the street
to the damaged
to error
trespassed within us
are cried up
in the lab,
the roughly butchered
half down face
split touch on
hearts suds an emblem
of blood to strap up
my passport
in the air
paler than voice
